


A Friendly Match

by DeiStarr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeiStarr/pseuds/DeiStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's been fighting this irrational attraction to Malfoy for a while now. Things come to a head after a friendly match of Quidditch. PWP</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friendly Match

**Title:** A Friendly Match

 **Disclaimer:** Bad things happen when you say you own something you don't. Therefore, I will deny my own desires and acknowledge that Harry and Draco are not mine. 

 **Pairings:** Harry/Draco

 **Warnings:** Blowjobs, anal sex. All occuring between two 18 year old males. 

 **Summary:** Harry's been fighting this irrational attraction to Malfoy for a while now. Things come to a head after a friendly match of Quidditch. PWP

 **A/N:** I wrote this ages ago and FF.net deleted it. Made me so sad, as it was the first PWP with anal sex I'd ever written. Actually, it was the first explicit sex I'd ever written, period. lol 

I was so happy when I found it. :D

* * *

** **

 

* * *

“Are you serious?!”

“As the dead,” Ron chuckled.

Harry burst out laughing, and Ron joined him. The boys laughed till tears came to their eyes. Ron’s news had just made Harry’s day. They sat in the Gryffindor common room, studying by the fire. A few crimson cushions were scattered around them, and Harry was leaning on one, the remains of his Potions essay forgotten at his feet.

“Oh, that’s priceless,” Harry chortled. “I wish I could have seen the look on Malfoy’s face!”

“Oh, mate,” assured Ron. “It was beautiful. I wish I could’ve taken a picture to carry it around with me forever.”

“He must have been so angry!”

“Hopping,” grinned Ron.

“Who did it? Do you know?”

“No idea.” Ron shrugged. “But one thing’s for sure; the Slytherins won’t be using their locker room for a while now.”

“George will be so proud when he hears what someone did with one of his portable swamps,” grinned Harry. “This is almost as good as the time the twins used one on Umbridge!”

“Yeah,” said Ron, mirth fading. “I bet Fred would have loved it, too.”

Harry felt like a heel. How could he have brought up the twins like that? He kicked himself mentally and searched for a way to bring Ron’s head back to happier thoughts. So of course he brought up Malfoy’s recent misfortune again. For Ron, the words “Malfoy’s misfortune” and “Happy Thoughts” were virtually synonymous.

“So, what exactly did they do with it? The regular portable swamp wouldn’t have caused these kinds of problems, right?”

“Whoever did it combined it with a super powerful sticking charm, apparently. Even though McGonagall finally got rid of it, the pipes in the showers are all backed up with sludge and the whole locker room smells like, well, a swamp. Apparently it stinks so much Malfoy got weak-kneed just from being in there too long.” Ron’s mirth bubbled back up once again. “It’s going to take them weeks to fix it!”

Harry couldn’t contain the laughter at the thought of Malfoy getting faint from the scent of the swamp. The blond may have been easy on the eyes, but he certainly wasn’t easy on the nerves. Harry thought it was a kind of poetic justice that such a thing had happened so close to the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match.

His eyes widened. “Ron – the match!”

“Huh?” Ron blinked at him in confusion.

“What are they going to do about the match? It’s in three days!”

“Oh, well they’ll probably let the snakes use one of the other locker rooms. Ravenclaw’s or Hufflepuff’s. Poor wankers, having the snakes inside their territory.” Ron shivered.

“No, Ron, remember – they’re doing maintenance on those locker rooms since Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff don’t have any matches for another month! There aren’t any other shower rooms for them to use!”

“You don’t think we’ll be sharing with them, do you? McGonagall wouldn’t do that to us. She wouldn’t! She used to be Gryffindor’s Head of House! She can’t just throw us to the snakes!”

“Don’t worry, Ron,” Harry reassured his best friend. “I’m sure that they wouldn’t do that to us. I’m sure of it.” He didn’t feel entirely confident of that, but he decided to keep it to himself. He tried not to think about what it would mean to share the showers with the Slytherins. He most certainly did not picture Malfoy standing naked under the streaming water. No sir.

For some reason those kinds of images were difficult to keep out of his head. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He hated the slimy git.

So what if his hair was like silk; spun gold twinkling in the sunlight? So what if his pert little arse in those tight jeans he wore last Hogsmeade weekend was absolutely perfect and delectable? So what if his pointy little face was actually aristocratic and perfectly proportioned, with pale skin that looked so soft and smooth and creamy and kissable and…

Harry swallowed. He groaned inwardly. He was just grateful Ron was not a Legilimens. His friend would kill him if he knew the kind of thoughts Harry had about Malfoy.

It had been hard enough for Ron to accept his newfound sexuality. Ron had been so counting on having him for a brother-in-law; Ginny had been so counting on them getting back together. But he got drunk at a Voldemort-Is-Dead-And-We-Want-To-Forget-All-About-The-War party and ended up snogging Seamus. It had been the best snog of his life.

Seamus apologized later, explaining that he wasn’t into guys, “It’s not that you’re not a great kisser, Harry; you’re great, really, I just was too pissed to realise it wasn’t a girl I was snogging.”

That was alright; Harry hadn’t been particularly enamoured with Seamus himself so much as the fact that he was so… _male_. Harry was hooked. He’d never really had the time or inclination to think about sex or his orientation much, simple survival being the higher priority for most of his teen years. Oh sure, he’d wanked occasionally, but nothing like after the war was over and he realised that guys were what did it for him.

Not just guys. Draco Malfoy. If Harry was into guys, his subconscious was into one Draco Malfoy in particular. He wondered if it had something to do with the fact that Malfoy’s was the first face he’d seen after he accepted the fact that he was gay, or if it was just co-incidence. He really had no idea why, or how to make it stop. All he could do was ride it out, and hope it went away soon.

0000000000000000000000000

It turned out that the Slytherins would be sharing a locker room with the Gryffindors after all. There was much bitterness and complaining on both sides. Nobody was happy about the arrangement.

Harry felt sick. He made up his mind that he would wait until everyone else had their showers and left before going in. That was nothing new for him; he would usually skulk around hiding until the fans thinned, as far too many were there to try and catch a glimpse of the Saviour’s bits. He just had to make sure that Malfoy was gone before he went in.

No way was he feeding that sick obsession of his. No way, no how. If he got any more obvious people would begin to notice. _Malfoy_ would begin to notice. That was just not on.

For now, he was just going to focus on catching the snitch.

“You’re going down today, Potter!” Malfoy sneered at him.

He rolled his eyes as his subconscious happily supplied an enticing visual image to go with that comment, one which would no doubt make Malfoy fall off his broom if he could see it.

“Very original, Malfoy,” he shot back. “Did you come up with that all on your own, or was it a group effort?”

“Ha, ha, Potter,” Malfoy rolled his own eyes. “You’re just jealous because you could never hope to compete with my superior intellect.” He smirked.

“Superior to what? A fruit fly?” Harry was feeling inordinately pleased with himself. He was on a roll today.

Malfoy scowled. “I understand that it’s difficult for you to think beyond your evolutionary stage, but please try to keep up, Potter,” he drawled.

“At least my evolutionary stage doesn’t require a stick up my arse to walk standing straight,” Harry replied with a smirk of his own.

Malfoy glared. He opened his mouth to reply but Harry wasn’t listening. He’d spotted a little whir of gold and he was after it like a shot.

Malfoy flew after him but he was no match for Harry. No matter how hard Malfoy tried to catch up to him, he remained ahead, arm out, hand reaching for the snitch. It was no contest. Perhaps if Malfoy hadn’t been so focused on what he was going to say to Harry next, he might have had a chance. As it was, Harry won easily.

As the crowd cheered, he shot Malfoy a cheeky grin. Malfoy positively glowered at him, and he did not think how beautiful Malfoy was when he was angry.

000000000000000000

Finally, there was silence in the locker rooms. Harry slipped inside, feeling sore and sticky with sweat and wanting nothing more than a good long hot shower. He was proud of himself for successfully avoiding being in the change rooms at the same time as Malfoy, and having avoided the temptation to peek. As it was he was having a hard time fighting off the thoughts of Malfoy standing under the same shower just a little while previously; his pale, Quidditch toned body nude and sudsy.

He sudsed his own tanned Quidditch toned body down and shampooed his hair. The scent of citrus filled his nostrils so strong he could almost taste it, and he sneezed. He rinsed, and the smell faded. He was tempted, oh so tempted, to go for a nice quiet wank while there was no one around, but he knew how foolhardy such a thing would be outside the castle. After all, anyone could technically walk in on him. His fingers ghosted over his prick – half hard from thoughts of how recently Malfoy had been nude in this same room – and left it be.

He grabbed his towel, intending to dry his hair and body but heard a noise coming from the locker rooms. Wary, he slung the towel around his waist – it wouldn’t do to be caught in the nude by a crazed fan, after all – and stalked dripping into the locker room. He stopped short, staring at the figure not three feet away from him.

There, lounging half out of his emerald green Quidditch robes like a wet dream come to life, was Malfoy. He looked up and smirked knowingly. “Enjoy yourself in there, did you?” With a bang, Harry shoved him up against the lockers, holding him by the throat. He glared up at the taller boy.

“Well, hello to you, too, Potter,” Malfoy purred. His smirk widened and Harry snarled.

“What’s your game, Malfoy?”

“Why Potter, I’m insulted. Must I always be up to something?” He batted his lashes innocently and the effect of those blond lashes ghosting over his pale cheeks gave Harry chills. High spots of colour stood out on his cheekbones as he surveyed his rival.

“Whether you must or not, you always _are_ ,” he pointed out, bitterly. “So this time I’m asking; what do you want with me, Malfoy?” He was keenly aware of how little space there was between their bodies, of Draco’s sweat-stained torso, pale and nude and inviting, just inches from his own, as drops of water ran down his chest, his neck, and his back, into the crease between his buttocks and down his legs.  

“You’re a smart boy, Potter; I’m sure you can figure that out,” purred Malfoy and Harry shivered involuntarily. He was so acutely aware of his own state of undress and of Malfoy’s bare chest with its twin pink nipples standing perfectly erect, his bare stomach with the thatch of pale blond hair starting below his belly-button, starting below his trouser line but visible now because his cream coloured trousers were so low slung. His voice when he purred like that sounded like sex and it was driving Harry mad. He ached to reach out and touch, to taste, to claim the other boy.

“Why haven’t you showered yet?” he demanded. “Why are you still here?”

Malfoy raised a delicate brow. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“If it was, I wouldn’t have needed to ask, Malfoy,” Harry seethed.

“Of course you would have,” Malfoy smiled indulgently. “You’re wonderfully dense like that, Potter.”

“Dense? You’re calling me dense?” Harry glared. “I’m _not_ dense, and even if I was, it’s better than being an arrogant prick like you, Malfoy!”

“Potter, everyone knows you’re dense. Don’t be so embarrassed; it’s one of your many charms.” Malfoy sounded so amused that Harry’s stomach tied itself in a knot.

“At least I can clue in when my company isn’t wanted, Malfoy.” Oh, he wanted Malfoy’s company alright. But not in any capacity Malfoy might expect or be willing to give.

“Well then, luckily for me, my company is _always_ wanted, whether I want it to be or not.” Malfoy sighed with an affected air of affliction.

“Must be nice, in that fantasy world you live in,” Harry commented dryly.

Malfoy snorted. “Must be nice being the Savior and having everything and everyone at your beck and call.” How could someone be so simultaneously infuriating and irresistible?

 “You – _arsehole_!”

“Ouch, Potter.” Malfoy sounded amused. “Don’t be a little prat.” He preened, and looked so delectable that Harry felt his towel begin tenting. He tried to channel his arousal into anger.

“Git!”

“Hero complex!”

Harry opened his mouth to retort but Malfoy pressed on. “As amusing as this is, I haven’t gotten what I came for yet. If you must make me say it, I was waiting.”

“Waiting for what, Malfoy?” Harry rolled his eyes.

“You.”

Just that one word. Malfoy leaned his head back, effectively baring his throat to the Gryffindor and allowing Harry to hold him by it. Malfoy gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, and Harry went mad.

He plunged forward, crashing their mouths together, kissing the other boy fiercely. He couldn’t think how this was going to blow up in his face, because it was too late to stop, so if he was going to get this one chance then he was going to make it good. He kissed Malfoy with all the passion of the weeks of infatuation that had plagued him, with all the fury that their eight years of rivalry could muster.

Then Malfoy kissed him back. It was brilliant. Electric. Like their bodies were on fire and the more they touched, the hotter they burned. Harry had never known kissing could feel like that, and from his reactions, neither had Malfoy. Harry kissed him frantically, and Malfoy whimpered in response.

Encouraged, Harry nipped at his bottom lip, worrying it with his teeth then sucking on it. Malfoy moaned and Harry slid his tongue into the Slytherin’s mouth. Malfoy returned the gesture, and met him nip for nip, suck for suck, and lick for lick. He tasted of vanilla and faintly of berries; tingling on Harry’s tongue and making him wonder what the boy had eaten that he would taste so sweet. He smelled of vanilla and spice and something uniquely _Malfoy_ that went straight to Harry’s groin and made him groan.

He licked a stripe along Malfoy’s jaw and the blond gasped. He ghosted kisses across Malfoy’s collarbone and Malfoy whispered, “ _Fuck_.” He threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair and kissed his forehead.

Encouraged yet again, Harry began to trail the kisses lower, down Malfoy’s chest and dropping to his knees, down across the blond’s stomach. Malfoy’s breath hitched, and Harry hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his cream coloured trousers and pulled them and his pants down in one swift motion. Malfoy’s erection sprang free, long, thick, pale pink and hard. Harry paused for a moment to admire it. It was like a beautiful piece of art, that cock.

Harry tongued the slit teasingly, and Malfoy gasped aloud at the contact. He tasted salty and warm, distinctly _Malfoy_ and Harry wanted more. He twirled his tongue around the head of Malfoy’s prick, before opening his mouth and taking in as much as he could of the other boy’s length. He ran his tongue up and down the vein on the underside of Malfoy’s cock and listened eagerly to the Slytherin’s babbling.

“Oh, Harry – fuck! – Gods, that feels – Merlin! _Harry_!”

Malfoy became incoherent as Harry worked his cock, as much as he could handle in his mouth, his hand working the base. Malfoy bucked, thrusting towards him and he forced himself not to gag as the cock hit the back of his throat. He moved back, slightly, just enough to keep Malfoy from gagging him while he worked with eager abandon to wring an orgasm from the blond.

His head bobbed quickly, and he twisted his hand around the base of Malfoy’s prick. He touched Malfoy’s balls experimentally and at Malfoy’s hiss he pulled back to suck them lightly, his hand never stopping its movements. He flicked and twirled his tongue in lazy patterns up and down the length of the Slytherin’s cock while Malfoy whimpered and moaned. He took the blond back in his mouth again and this time he practically sobbed out Harry’s name in a chant.

“Harry, Harry, Harry, _Harry_!”

He wondered vaguely when he’d become Harry to Malfoy and if he should call Malfoy Draco now or not. But he pushed those thoughts out of his head and focused only on what he was doing, and Malfoy’s – Draco’s – reactions to it.

He hollowed his cheeks and Draco fisted his hair with a shout; bucking as he orgasmed heavily into Harry’s eagerly waiting mouth. Despite never having done this before, Harry had an idea of what to expect and managed to swallow with relatively little trouble or mess. He milked every last drop from Draco before standing, and Draco pulled him in for a fierce kiss.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he breathed, and Harry’s own aching erection throbbed at the words and the breathy tone they were spoken in. Draco’s breath ghosted over Harry’s earlobe and the tingling left him half-crazed with want.

Draco pulled at the towel around Harry’s waist and tossed it aside. He stared at Harry hungrily, eyes traveling up and down his body and lingering at his groin.

“Beautiful,’ he murmured and Harry felt himself blush.

He reached out and stroked Harry’s waiting erection and Harry felt rather than heard himself whimper. Draco’s hands were soft but had the callouses that came with years of riding a broom and Merlin, Draco’s hand felt better on his prick than his own had ever felt. It was heaven in a hand-job.

Draco fell to his knees, his hot breath moving over the head of Harry’s cock and Harry felt a groan tear its way from his throat. Draco gave him a few experimental licks and he reached out for the wall to steady himself.

“Merlin, Draco!” he gasped as Draco enveloped his prick in the hot, wet heat of his mouth, and he felt Draco purr against him in pleasure at hearing his given name from Harry’s lips. He groaned again, feeling weak-kneed. If Draco’s hand had been heaven, this was even better.

“Draco…” he managed before Draco did something with his tongue that made him lose coherency. Time and place meant nothing to him. All he knew was that warm, wet mouth and that glorious dancing, teasing tongue.

He bucked, thrusting forward mindlessly and Draco expertly handled it without gagging or choking. He hollowed his cheeks and Harry’s prick hit the back of his throat. Harry nearly screamed from the incredible sensations coursing through him.

He nearly came then but Draco broke away and Harry whined, frustrated by the loss of contact. Draco gave a breathy laugh and murmured, “Patience, Harry, patience.”

He rummaged in his robes for a moment, then turned his attentions back to Harry’s needy prick. After a few experimental licks he began sucking Harry’s member again. He seemed to be doing something with his hands. Harry didn’t know what until he felt a cool, slick finger probing his entrance. It felt strange to have the finger breach his taunt ring of muscle; it burned slightly but was not entirely unpleasant.

Draco’s finger moved and his head bobbed and as the burn faded Harry moaned wantonly. Draco added another finger; it burned as well, but as Draco curled the fingers inside Harry they brushed past a knot that made his knees buck and he cried out.

“Draco, I’m gonna –“ he broke off into a high keening noise as Draco touched his prostate again. Suddenly he was coming, coming hard and Draco continued to swallow and pump until every drop was gone.

He felt boneless; unsure if his legs could hold him, but Draco leapt to his feet and kissed him fiercely. He tasted himself on Draco’s tongue and moaned.

“I want to fuck you, Harry,” Draco whispered in his ear, and he nodded, unable to speak coherently yet. Was this a dream? _I don’t wanna wake up_ , Harry thought. He had dreamed of this happening many times but never had it felt so real. Yet it was difficult to believe this was really happening.

Draco continued to stretch Harry, adding a third finger and repeatedly stroking his prostate until Harry was hard again.

“Fuck me, Draco,” he begged. “Please, fuck me!”

Draco pinned Harry against the wall and he wrapped his legs around Draco’s waist. Draco pushed into him, slowly but steadily. It burned and he hissed, both instinctively cringing from and welcoming the stretch and trying to keep himself relaxed enough to allow it.

Draco groaned as he breached Harry’s tight heat. He moved slowly, both for Harry’s sake and to avoid climaxing too quickly.

Soon he was completely sheathed within Harry, and as he remained still Harry found that the burn faded into a pleasurable stretch. He ground his hips against the blond, and moaned.

Draco began to move then, thrusting in and out slowly, angling to find Harry’s pleasure spot. He brushed against it and Harry keened. Smirking, the Slytherin began thrusting harder, faster, eliciting moans and cries of pleasure from the Gryffindor’s lips.

“Gods, Harry,” he moaned. “You’re so tight; it’s incredible!”

Both boys were soon panting as they moved together; Draco thrusting in and out and Harry grinding into the blond with every thrust.

Harry’s conscious thought processes were awash in waves of pleasure that rolled over him and threatened to drown him. He gasped and bucked against Draco, the other boy’s name falling from his lips over and over.

“Draco, Draco, _gods_ , _Merlin_ ; Draco, _Draco_!”

He shouted the blond’s name as he felt a second climax beginning to come over him, without Draco even touching his cock. Draco gave one last sharp thrust against his prostate and his release was spilling between them, up onto their chests and running down their stomachs.

The tightening of the muscles around Draco’s prick were too much for him to handle and he was coming as well, shooting his climax into the hot, tight channel his cock was sheathed in.

The boys slid to the floor where they lay panting in one another’s arms. Draco kissed Harry again, slowly, lazily. Harry kissed him back, reveling in their closeness and the fact that not only had he just been shagged by Draco Malfoy, his own personal wet dream, but Draco was engaged in a pretty good imitation of post-coital cuddling.

 “We need to shower, Potter,” Draco observed after a moment.

“It would seem that way, yes,” agreed Harry without wanting to move. He hesitated. “I was Harry a few minutes ago. Why go back to Potter now?”

“Well, technically I didn’t have your permission to call you Harry before. I just got a littler, err, carried away.”

“Well you have my permission now… so long as I have yours… Draco.” Harry grinned at him lopsidedly.

Draco kissed him in response. It was a slow, sensual kiss, and left Harry feeling pleasantly dazed.

“We should have done that ages ago,” murmured Draco.

“Definitely,” Harry mumbled back.

“I’ve been wanting to for ages,” admitted the Slytherin. “I’m glad that the prank worked to my advantage.”

“Me too,” groaned Harry. “Can you imagine, if it weren’t for that stupid prank, this never would have happened.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I set this up then, isn’t it?” Draco asked cheekily, and Harry gasped.

“You?”

“Me,” Draco nodded. “I needed some way for us to finally have an opportunity to work out all the sexual tension between us, and I figured what better than a shared locker room after a friendly match?”

“But… sabotaging your own team’s locker room… I never would have guessed.”

“It’s always the last person you expect, Harry.”

Laughing, Harry snogged his Slytherin some more before they got up and went back hand in hand for a shower.


End file.
